


live and let die

by Hydra_Trash_Gal



Series: Mission: Becoming Winter [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dehumanization, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, light gore, mentions of cannibalism, sad steeb again, sad steeb always, winteriron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 17:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17411117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal/pseuds/Hydra_Trash_Gal
Summary: conflicted, Winter considers abandoning his missionorthe one where Tony Stark gives Winter a present





	live and let die

**Author's Note:**

> not beta-read so any mistakes are my own

The Asset planned to return to it's quarters to prepare for the debrief. 

It knew enough of Handlers to expect punishment. Steve Rogers would be merciless as always, dredging up those precious thoughts, exposing the bit of humanity left where machinery should have been. Like all Handlers Steve Rogers knew how to hurt it, how to draw on that raw nerve like a frayed wire.

The Asset felt pressure pushing up against it's lungs. It's pulse was high and there was moisture accumulating in its eyes. Vision impairment. He — not it because if it wasn't to be Tony Stark's person it wasn't to be a person at all — swiped them away. DUM-E spun in place with a soft beeping noise which alerted the Asset that Tony Stark was returning. 

It had wanted to run. Just laying eyes on him felt like the Asset had stolen something it had no rights to. He was Miss Potts' person and that wasn't fair but the Asset couldn't change it. Tony Stark had voiced his preference so clearly, so painfully it felt like a bullet burrowing in his chest cavity, bouncing around, shrapnel lodging into his lungs and diaphragm. It hurt to breathe and it's throat felt raw and it's mouth tasted of copper but not blood. It could taste it’s own sadness and that was not normal, not proper for a machine.

Had Tony Stark made it into a person and now it's human form was dissolving because it not longer had purpose? It thought a short video clip it had watched during it's research. A time lapsed piece of fruit crumbling down until it turned to soil. It imagined it's body would do the same and looked stressfully at the clean floors. It would be quite the inconvenience for Tony Stark. The Asset would try to be on Steve Rogers' floor when it happened so he would have to sweep up the bits left. There was a sort of grim satisfaction to it, like the way the guts of a target in Siberia had slipped out of their torso, painting the snow crimson.

"Alright," Tony Stark sat on a stool at his bench and spun to look at him with a perfect smile. His teeth were white and not too large. Perfectly lined, perfectly polished. Beautiful. It was a pity the Asset couldn't have belonged to such a beautiful person. "I dunno about you but this plate is driving me insane. I don't know why I can't fix it for good." 

The Asset wanted to assure Tony Stark that if anyone could fix the arm to optimal performance it would be him. He was a great technician, a good person and it would have been such an honor to belong to. 

The Asset realized he was leaking as Tony Stark looked up at it and started. "I'll fix it Winter," he assured him stressfully. "We'll figure it out, I promise." 

Tony Stark was so good to give the Asset assure and kindness because machines didn’t really need it. His fingers ran over the forearm of the arm, the part that was still functioning fine. The feedback was warm and pleasant and made the leaking worse. "How's the pain? One being not awful and ten being 'Tony shut the hell up and drug me the fuck up'."

"Ten," the Asset gasped because this pain is not right. There is something horribly wrong and if anyone can fix it, it's Tony Stark. But he doesn't know how it can be done. It’s the pain of not being Tony Stark’s person.

Tony Stark pulls his hands away and the Asset whined uncontrollably. It didn't want Tony Stark to stop touching it, not ever. "Eleven." 

It was nonsensical because it exceeded the pain parameters but it had hurt more to lose the touch than it had ever known. Like losing its arm a thousand times over without the same tangible pain.

Tony Stark pulled a strange face. One between reluctance and determination and maybe even regret and returned to applying that gentle pressure to his arm. "Nine," The Asset could breathe now. The leaking was lessening a bit. Maybe it could be Tony Stark's person when Miss Potts was away? She was away a lot. The mere idea lessening the painful pressure inside it. "Six."

"Am I your drug then, Winter?" Tony Stark asked playfully but his warm brown eyes, like freshly turned earth burned into his. Winter would have shied away from such eye contact before but this what people did and it felt...right.

"Drugs are highly addictive and effect a person's life drastically," Winter recalled. He knew what drugs are in his case but that is not what a person would know. Not the substances that go into his arm on missions that fill his body with giddy energy and his head with cotton. "You are the best drug Tony Stark."

He should not touch Tony Stark but he does. He feels the skin of his arm beneath his flesh fingers and Tony Stark stiffens a bit but allows it. Afterward there is not biting electric pulse from a stun baton. Tony Stark is still touching him and it feels good. Tony Stark is good and it's making Winter good. The pressure is fading, the leaking has stopped and his cheeks are wet but his pulse is slow. He wants to fall into this touch, melt into a puddle of the sensation and live in it forever. 

It is different from how the the Handlers have touched him. Different from how Steve Rogers touched him. Steve Rogers' touch was needy and it took and took and took and begged for something Winter couldn't give back. Tony Stark touched him because he wanted to but also, and most importantly, because he saw it made him hurt less. It was selfish and Winter would have to be punished but it felt too good. He almost didn't want to say 'one' but even after he did Tony Stark kept touching him. 

It was not the end of the mission: it was a complication; insufficient research and poor planning on Winter's side. Winter simply had to prove to Tony Stark he was a good person for him in Miss Potts absence. When Tony Stark was finished fixing the plate on his arm he spoke carefully. "So wanna talk about what got you so...weepy?"

Weepy. Weeping was to cry with great sorrow. "It was not sorrow. It hurt." Winter explained. "You've fixed it."

"Your arm caused you that much pain from the plate's jamming? Remember when it short circuited the pressure pads in your fingers? You said that was only a three." Winter remembered that pain, the sharp shooting sensations in the arm and down his spine. 

The comparison didn't make sense. It wasn't the arm that was hurt it was Winter but people did not say that. People compartmentalized their hurts because pain was weakness. "I am fully functioning now." Winter wasn't lying to Tony Stark and he wasn't ignoring his questions. It was a selective response. It would please him because he didn't know that he was answering a different question. 

"Okay well if you're ever not... I've never seen you cry before." Tony Stark rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not so good with the comfort thing okay? This seems more Rogers speed."

"Steve Rogers is not part of my mission." Winter had never said he was, why did Tony Stark think he still needed his Handler? Because he made a grave miscalculation and now Tony Stark saw him too weak. "I will not cry. I was — people cry."

He had tried to lie but he couldn't. Not someone as clever and beautiful as Tony Stark. Beautiful was a strange but fitting definition of the man before him. The man above him. The man he would serve once the machines that annoyed him and failed to follow simple orders were gone. He would never forget to clear off Tony Stark's workdesk and he could learn and observe so he would have the right tools without even having to be asked. 

"So what, you were practicing?" It wasn't a complete truth but Winter nodded. It was a bit thrilling to get away with something so narrowly. To do wrong without any immediate repercussion. Only Winter knew — and Steve Rogers who could see into his head. "Weird but okay."

Weird was not a desirable human trait. "Am I weird?" 

Tony Stark has began gathering his tools but stilled long enough to snort. "Oh you're weird alright buddy. I don't get you." 

"Oh." Winter felt a strange twinge in his stomach. "I am sorry. I will research further on how to be more..." he had to think hard for the word. 

"Normal?" Tony Stark was smiling a bit.

Winter inclined his head gravely. "Well I wish you luck on that one, you've got a whole lot of weird to sort out."

Winter appreciated his kindness and that he recognized the potential for difficulty in his learnings. But he also appreciated the way that Tony Stark sat close to him, how he let their arms touch and the smiles he shared so openly while discussing the suit design he’d been working on for the last few months.

•• •• •• ••

The final phase of the mission was most daunting.

The Asset — Winter — did not go against protocol by choice. He suspected Steve Rogers kept track of such and it was why he was not in the field yet. Why else would those blue eyes follow him so closely? Steve Rogers was by far the most intimidating and manipulative Handler he'd known. Not only because it made him think of the fragile boy with bright blue eyes and faulty lungs that made his insides feel as warm as when Tony Stark touched him but because despite claiming his thoughts to be his own, Steve Rogers knew about it and try to pretend they were one of the same.

"That was me Buck," Steve Rogers lied with earnest and misty eyes. "You remember, I know you do."

Winter was not stupid; the blue eyed boy was long gone, vanished between one of his storage stints in cryo or perhaps while he working with the Soviets. He was being punished, he finally gathered. The day when he felt Tony Stark's affection, Steve Rogers had gotten angry, just as Tony Stark had implied and it wasn't fair. 

But it wasn't important to the mission so the Winter would endure. He endured tortures far worse than Steve Rogers and would continue to do so until the mission was complete. Then he wouldn't think of the man's wheezy exhale and the way his eyes would glimmer challengingly at him. 

Winter would be free — like Steve Rogers said he was but he wasn't really, not free from Steve Rogers at least — to think about Tony Stark who was had the warmest eyes and touch he remembered. Handsome and clever — good and kind.

He filled his time with research and planning and ensuring his body stayed in perfect shape because Steve Rogers would surely call him to action eventually and if he did poorly perhaps he would take away these new freedoms. He was not perfect yet — was not quite a person — and until he was the mission would not be completed. 

He observed the others when Tony Stark was away. He saw the way they initiated contact between each other, physical socialization and communication. 

After sparring Clint put his hand on Steve Rogers' shoulder and said, "Next time I'm not going so easy on you," as if Steve Rogers could be easily beat. 

Steve Rogers smiled at him however, a real smile because Clint was a real person unlike Winter. "It's a date." Steve Rogers nodded his head firmly.

A date. Clint grinned toward Winter who had been observing as discreetly as possible while keeping up on his knife skills. It had a rubber blade which made the weight all wrong but Steve Rogers had given him one of those smiles, the fake smiles because he was not a person and said, "It's just for practice, Buck. Why would you need a real one?" 

He would ask Tony Stark when he was back from his travels. That wasn't Winter disobeying Steve Rogers because he said Bucky is allowed to make his own decisions and he was deciding that his handler was not providing good care so intervention was necessary to ensure functioning.

"I was gonna run up the street and get some gelato." Useless information shared willingly — that was friendship, wasn't it? People liked to share things. "Why don't you and Cap come? Nat is off doing some super secret thing and Lucky is at the vet."

Winter felt no particular drive to do so, not the giddy feeling he got when Tony Stark asked if he wanted to go with him places in the Tower. His heart rate did not increase and he wasn't thinking about warm Clint's touch may have been. 

Besides if Steve Rogers came it would be unpleasant because he would watch him the entire time, call him Bucky, offer paper thin smiles that were meant to disarm him. 

"That's a great idea. You've been trying new foods lately Buck and you used to love ice cream." Steve Rogers looked at him hopefully. "Why don't we?"

"No." He could make his own choice now too.

Steve's face fell, a careful look of disappointment. "What about you Steve?" Clint looked hopefully toward him.

"Oh, uh," Steve Rogers looked pained, glancing between the spiky haired man and Winter who continued to carefully practice with the rubber-bladed knife. "You won't be lonely Buck?"

Lonely? People sought closeness but he did not. The realization distressed him a bit, made him doubt his progress. He did miss Tony Stark and going to the lab to watch him work. That was akin to loneliness, wasn't it? He would have to research further on the topic. "I am...okay."

"He'll be fine," Clint said. "C'mon, I'll meet you outside the Tower in fifteen minutes."

When it was just the two of them in the gym Steve Rogers approached him. Winter immediately held the knife out, hilt toward the Handler. The training was over and he was never permitted to keep Weapons beyond it by his past Handlers and by Steve Rogers alike. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" 

He took the knife and toyed it. Fidgeting was becoming a habit of Steve Rogers' whenever he spoke to Winter and it made him nervous. Was he thinking of all the ways he wanted to punish him for enduring his tests for so long? Steve Rogers wanted failure, he wanted Winter to think they knew each other and that he'd once been small. Once he failed, once he stumbled and let himself be gullible then Steve Rogers would ridicule him, prove him to be stupid and incapable of being a person because a person would know better.

But Winter already knew better — did that make him a person?

"Affirmative."

It felt good to turn away, to make that choice and know it wasn't what Steve Rogers wanted him to do. People did not defer to a command unless they chose to. They were not programmed and expected to obey. Winter would not be either.

He went to his quarters and found himself kneeling, waiting for Steve Rogers to come in and punish him for not playing along. For making him look foolish in front of his team. But he didn't and Winter was able to exhale and count it as a win. He had bested Captain America and he would do so until he passed all tests and was Tony Stark's person.

He researched normalcy and found the same complications, even with new array of experiences. Winter needed friend, intimate relationships, exposure to alternative culture on a regular basis. He needed an Apple phone and pants too tight. He needed to question his own existence and be dramatic and make casual comments on his own morality. There was specialty vocabulary he studied though the ideals made his head hurt. But still, he focused. He would be prepared. 

Then he found him staring at the concept of a date and it all made sense.

That was how two people connected. That was how Winter and Tony Stark would connect. They would eat the same piece of spaghetti and kiss in the middle. Tony Stark would realize Winter was not weird and actually very romantic which was important to people. 

Winter's chest felt warm; accomplishment was on the horizon. He just needed to find the right time.

•• •• •• ••

The chance to display his skills came a few weeks later. Thor, a god from another world was coming so Tony Stark was preparing a feast and he had invited Winter to join them. Steve Rogers had pushed in, as he always did, feigning concern for ‘Bucky’s’ comfort. “Only if you’re comfortable with it Bucky.” He had glared at Tony Stark and Winter had found himself in a strange position.

He wasn’t a person, not yet, so he couldn’t rebel against his Handler physically could he? “If you’re comfortable with it, Winter.” Tony Stark looked expectantly at Steve Rogers as he said it and his Handler wore an expression that suggested he had been struck. 

“I am comfortable.” 

Steve Rogers made himself scarce immediately after and Winter felt... strange. He hadn’t corrected his codename because he had no right. Tony Stark called him Winter but Steve Rogers liked to call him Bucky. “Cap can get himself a little high strung,” Tony Stark nudged him and any tension, any apprehension that made Winter feel like he’d done wrong vanished. 

He melted a bit into the touch, body sagging down to get more contact. He was growing greedy but Tony Stark was so giving. “I remember you complaining about Rogers’ shitty rubber knife,” Tony Stark said suddenly. “So I got you something.”

Tony Stark had given him so much that Winter shouldn’t have asked for anything except how to properly repay him. But it was nice to have Tony Stark’s attention. To be given a gift. People liked to be given things, especially for free. He ambled along after the short genius, down into the bowels of the Tower and Winter only thought about Steve Rogers twice. He wondered if he was crying — he heard him on occasion, in the shower after his breathing was rough and uneven and sometimes when speaking to Sam Wilson on the phone.

Winter was being ‘empathetic’ — he had to be sad that Steve Rogers was sad. He didn’t know why, it was just one of those things people felt. “DUM-E get the thing,” Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the machine rolled over to the other side of the lab. “First things first, this a secret between you and me, got it Robocop?”

Winter nodded his head. He had a plethora of classified information he kept under wraps. Anything Tony Stark said would be protected with his life. “You can’t tell a soul. Not even Cap — promise?”

“I promise.” Because people did not confirm information with ‘Affirmative’ they had to give an action word. A pronoun. Something to make it personal and real. 

Tony Stark smiled, bright and mischievous. It was a smile he remembered from Agent Rollins whenever he got to have a target kneel before him so he could level his gun between their eyes. Tony Stark was happy and Winter was pleased to have been a part of it. 

DUM-E returned with a parcel in its claw. Winter could have moved much quicker. “Thank you,” Tony Stark took it and held it out to Winter. “For you. Ever open a present before?”

He thought of Siberia, of a defector tossed into his cell, arms bounds behind their back, naked. “A present, Soldat!” His comrades had laughed.

Winter — Soldat, then — knew enough that presents needed to opened. There was no gift inside the man, just blood and organs that were stringy and caught in his teeth. But it had been a long time since the hungry days of Soviet Russia, Winter knew however presents still needed to be opened. 

“Once,” he confirmed but he didn’t share the story. People did not like hearing about unpleasant things and unpleasant things often involved blood. He remembered the all blood, how it clotted on the cement and grew cold. He took the gift and wanted to keep it forever. “Thank you Tony Stark.”

“You gonna thank me before you open it? I mean, I know you’ll be thanking me afterwards but — ”

Winter arm wrapped him, careful of the gift and of Tony Stark who the best gift he’d ever gotten (he wouldn’t open him however; people didn’t do that. He wasn’t the Soldat anymore and he had plenty to eat). “I am thankful for you.” 

Winter was careful not squeeze to tightly although the wanted to. He wanted to squeeze until he was a part of Tony Stark, so they could always be together and the warmth of his touch would always be with him. But that wasn’t possible so he let go and stepped back, eyeing tracing Tony Stark’s startled and flushed features to assure he had not hurt his progress and harmed Tony Stark. He smoothed his hair and cleared his throat. 

“Was the arm-wrapping...agreeable?” Winter adjusting his footing nervously.

“Oh, uh, you caught me by surprise is all — it was...good, Win.” Tony Stark looked back toward the glass between his lab and Bruce Banner’s space. Banner was sitting at a desk, completely absorbed in something in front of him. Winter had almost forgotten this was meant to be secretive. “Open your present.” 

Winter obeyed, carefully peeling away gold colored paper. He didn’t want to tear it. He didn’t want to ruin any part of this gift. Tony Stark didn’t to rush his careful ministrations either, he instead moved items on his work bench to give Winter more space to carefully smooth out the paper, shiny on one side and plain on the other. 

Inside was a leather case, sleek and black with a custom imprint of his star on it, red and proud. Most shied away from it. Steve Rogers would cringe as if the design itself was an assault to him. 

He felt...accepted? He felt like he belonged. His wanted to cry but it wasn’t from sorrow. “Thank you Tony Stark.” He said again. This was the best; it was better than the best it was... He didn’t think there were words for the feelings swelling up inside of him.

“I’m glad you’re so impressed by the case, I know I have impeccable taste. Open it,” Tony Stark rolled his eyes a bit but he still smiled warmly. 

Winter obeyed, carefully, gingerly even though he doubted it would implode before him but he couldn’t be too careful. Nestled in lush black velvet he saw a glint of a red and gold. “I remember you saying how the training knife was no good and I realized Rogers probably confiscated all your stuff when you came here cos you were a bit unhinged,” Tony Stark spoke quickly as he always did. Winter picked up the knife by the hilt. It felt good in his hand however. It felt right. It was heavier than most and it it had Iron Man’s colors. The hilt was gold and the blade red. He examined the hilt a bit closer and noticed the red star.

“Designed it myself. That blade is made out of vibranium. Got it from a friend who felt bad about trying to kill you.”

Winter wasn’t listening. 

He had been given a weapon finally. He took a step back and pivoted on his heel to slash the blade through the air. It felt good, it felt right. He could defend Tony Stark much better now. “So?” the brunette gave him an expectant look as he stowed his hands in his pockets with a casual grin. “Is it worthy?”

“I’m not worthy of your gifts,” Winter admitted. “But I will do my best to be.”

Tony Stark opened his mouth and then shut it looking lost for a moment. “I just think that you should be trusted with things like that again.” Tony Stark said finally. “Steve may think you’re not ready but in my opinion, you’ve been ready.”

“I can accompany you on missions now?” The rush of relief was dizzying. He didn’t need any more equipment than this — he had killed men with less. “Please Tony Stark.”

“I’m not stepping anyone’s toes,” Tony Stark said instead. “But maybe you need to have that chat with Rogers. Tell him you’re ready and to mind his own damn business for once. You’re a grown man, you can make your own choices.”

Winter stowed away that knowledge and nodded his head. He would tell him as soon as he saw him next. He spent the afternoon at Tony Stark’s side, twirling the knife around his fingers. Their knees rested against each other and it felt good.

Winter just needed to break free if Steve Rogers and kiss Tony Stark. Then, he’d be a person. He knew what he’d have to say, he had done all the research. There would be no foolish mistakes like last time. 

Mission status: 89.4% complete.

**Author's Note:**

> so I said there was one more part and I lied. there’s one last part left after this one. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought and thank you for all the encouragement and wonderful comments you’ve left.


End file.
